


sketches and strawberries

by annabethcheese



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, and going the direct opposite of the stock market like hades wants, jason is following in the footsteps of zeus's multimillion dollar company or whatever, nico is a foreign exchange student from italy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabethcheese/pseuds/annabethcheese
Summary: ok i finished writing this go ahead 😌
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace, Piper McLean/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. prepared for the wrong things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i finished writing this go ahead 😌

It’s sweltering out, but people range the campus at varying speeds for the first day of the semester at Jupiter University. Whether they’re speed walking from class to class, or simply relaxing underneath the shade of a few trees, students and professors litter the winding paths and expansive grounds.

Jason Grace fits in the former of the two, rushing from his macroeconomics class to the art building, trying his hardest to stuff his notebook back into the book bag slung halfway across his back. His sensible tennis shoes barely touch the pavement as he pushes his legs to go faster, faster, have to go _faster_. Get in the door, wait, hold it open for a small girl with coily hair who speeds by with a mumbled “Thanks”, jog up the stairs, then the next flight, along with the flight after that, and practically sprint into the well-lit space that is classroom 324A. With a few seconds to spare, Jason finds himself sat at a large table towards the back.

He’d been hoping for something closer to the board considering his eyesight isn’t the best (he’s also _one of those kids_ but would never admit it), but Jason quickly diminishes any thought of sitting anywhere else, because the most _beautiful_ boy is sitting at this table. And he can’t stop staring—oh, man he’s really just standing there, isn’t he? He takes in the boys dark tufts of practically shoulder length hair, as well as his entirely black outfit despite the stifling weather. Now the boy is looking up at him—no, scowling is more accurate—with his deep brown eyes and even _that’s_ cute. A single dark eyebrow is raised in question, and he can feel the room grow quieter, so _why is he still frozen there like an idiot?!_

The professor strides into the room, and that’s all it takes for the spell to be broken, thankfully, because he’s pretty sure he was about to be chewed out by this guy. Jason clears his throat and slides into the seat to the right of The Boy, nervously tapping his pencil against the desk in tandem with his foot after setting his bag on the floor. He sees something shift to his left out of the corner of his eye and glances over sideways to see The Boy glaring at him, then down at his pencil, and further his foot. It’s all the warning Jason needs to stop, but that certainly doesn’t help his nervous energy from building up, so he runs a hand through his short blond hair to give himself some sort of comfort.

“Good afternoon, class! Welcome to Portrait Painting and Drawing, I suppose,” he says, taking the extra time to write out the name on the board. “I’m Patrick, but you can call me Professor Carter,” and his eyebrows are raised with a knowing smile, expecting at least one person to laugh, so Jason gives it to him and chuckles just loud enough to reach the front of the room. “Hah! Yes! Anyways, we’ll be getting into the syllabus today, so don’t freak out if you haven’t gotten all your supplies yet, but certainly be sure to order those sooner rather than later!”

The canvas, acrylic paint and brushes, and sketching pencils his stepmother bought him specially for this class weigh heavy in Jason’s bag, and it’s not even on his shoulders. He can hear Leo’s voice in his head making fun of him for being so overly prepared and his cheeks grow warm. A copy of the syllabus is passed to him from his right, and he takes one from the stack to hand it to The Boy, but sees that he’s about to do the same with a separate stack. Jason is ready to take the papers from him to walk up to the front, but The Boy is quicker than him and snatches them from his grip before he can even open his mouth, having raised his brows in defiance at him. He’s already walking up the aisle of chairs when Jason feels the heat embarrassment spread to his ears, looking down at the packet that now sits on the black desk in front of him.

“Ah! Thanks, Nico,” Patrick exclaims with a smile as The Boy— _Nico_ —sets the rest of the stack on his desk. All he gets in response is a small nod, but that’s all their professor seems to expect and gets right into explaining how to contact him and his office hours.

It's not long before the class is over since Patrick finishes going over things earlier than expected, and Jason can finally make his escape from that cloud of embarrassing events that seemed to keep wafting into his face. He's placing his syllabus into one of the six binders in his bag, trying not to look as Nico makes his way up to Patrick's desk, seeming to already know him, at least enough to chat casually after class. Trying not to get too caught up in staring _again_ , Jason zips his bag up and hurries out the door, hoping he can make a better impression the next time they meet.

. . .

"Oh, my god--you _what_?"

Jason groans and collapses back onto Leo's red sheets, covering his flushed face with both hands. "Leoooo, I'm being vulnerable right now."

His best friend throws his head back in laughter, emphasizing it with his tan arms wrapped around his stomach. "Dude! I can't believe you just _stared_ at him without saying anything! He probably thinks you're a creep or something."

"Oh no, I hadn't even thought of that!" Jason exclaims as Leo flops onto the bed next to him, jostling them both on the lumpy school mattress. "What if he tells all his friends about the weird guy from his portrait painting and drawing class?"

"At least he's talking about you," the other boy shrugs. At that, it takes all of Jason’s willpower not to sit up and strangle Leo until he’s a curly-haired corpse, so he opts to pull one of his pillows over his head and yell out his frustration.

Suddenly, Leo’s new roommate Frank is in the doorway with a look of concern on his face. “Uh... Is everything okay? I heard muffled distress.”

”Don’t worry, Frankie,” Leo replies, to which Frank bristles uncomfortably at the new nickname. “Superman here is just experiencing his new crisis of the week.” He pats Jason’s arm semi-reassuringly, of whom isn’t very reassured.

“C-Can you not call me that either, please?” Frank asks, rubbing the back of his head of shortly cropped black hair. Then he points at Jason. “Also, Superman? Just—please tell me what’s up?”

Jason waves it off from underneath the pillow like this is a question he gets regularly (he does), “Old nickname from high school.”

“ _Awesome_ nickname from high school,” Leo interjects. “And I’m just shooting out nicknames until one sticks, Panda Man. No, not that one... I’ll figure it out! Anyways, we’re gathered here today because of Jason’s very apparent _crush_ on a boy in his art class or whatever. He won’t stop freaking out about it.”

”You’re no help, so what else can I do?” Jason finally sits up and glares at Leo. “And it’s not a crush! I don’t even know him.”

Putting his index finger up in a haughty manner, Leo interjects, “Ah, ah, ah. You don’t know him _yet_.”

”And I probably never will! He doesn’t even know _my_ name,” Jason’s back to wallowing.

Frank clears his throat, bringing attention back to his awkward stance still in the doorway. He seems to realize the slight tension his natural stature creates and makes his way to sit at Leo’s desk before continuing, “Well, what _is_ his name?”

“Um... I’m pretty sure it started with an ‘N’?” Jason scratched the back of his neck. “I kinda forgot after my second economics class of the day.”

”Honestly, dude,” Leo throws his hands up in the air, looking pointedly at Jason with his near-hazel eyes. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself every semester. You didn’t have to double major.”

This is a regular argument between Jason, Leo, and their other friend Piper, so the blond simply sighs and enters the rehearsed mantra he’s been trying to convince them of: “My dad’s company needs someone who’s prepared and knowledgeable of not only business, but also economics, to the point that he can give his all and more to the employees and clients of Olympic Securities. A great CEO has to be ready for any curveball the industry will throw at him and still be ready to sit down at the head of the table to give a basic presentation on the importance of home security.”

While Leo just sighs in exasperation having heard this all before, Frank looks at him with wide eyes. “Do you have that memorized?? There has to be some kind of cue card behind me, right?”

“Don’t worry, you’re not crazy. His dad is coo coo bananas about him taking over the family company, so he has to live up to yet another standard set by his parents,” Leo explains, using far too many hand movements but still getting the point across. “Even though it’s not what he really wants to do.”

Frank is about to reply with something that’s probably full of good advice, but Jason is tired of others trying to butt into what’s best for him. He already gets this lecture from his sister Thalia every other week, so he interjects, “Just because I want them to be proud of me doesn’t mean I’m making some kind of mistake.” He takes a deep breath, looking up from the floor. “Yeah, I _want_ to be a camp counselor, but that’s just not plausible and my dad needs someone to take over for him.”

The other two boys look at each other, then their friend—no matter how old or newly acquired the friendship may be—and nod in understanding. There was no use beating a dead horse, and they knew it. Jason is the only one who can change his own path, and no matter how much they want to slap some sense into him, it isn’t their place to do so. Leo hopes Thalia can get through to him one of these days, but for now they have to be there for her little brother. The seeds of doubt have already been planted in his mind, but whether they take root is up to whether he waters them with enough thought.

”Alright,” Leo finally breaks the silence, as always, clapping his hands together. “Sushi time! Let’s head down to the market—maybe we’ll even see Jason’s boyfriend on the way,” he adds with a wink.

And, like that, the tension building in the room is broken. “Oh my god, Leo. He’s not my boyfriend!”

”Whatever you say, Lover Boy,” he shrugs as they all head out of Frank and Leo’s dorm, the former locking the door behind them.

The previous conversation still races through Jason’s mind, but even he can’t pass up sushi, so he pushes them out of the way in favor of the California roll and friends in front of him.


	2. meaningful conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While it had been difficult to concentrate on his morning classes, Jason was glad for the slight distraction they had given him up to that point. His walk to the art building is still rushed, so he’d either have to pack up early in his previous class or find a new path. The hot afternoon sun stalks the back of his mind, suffocating him with heat as he enters the dreaded classroom 324A. It takes everything in him not to look at that occupied seat until he sits down, because if he looks now, there’s no telling if he’d be able to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is an actually finished chapter that i'm posting so that's pretty cool ! i like this one better than the last so do with that what you will

Piper sidles into the front seat of the blue Honda Civic, tossing her bag to the back. “I can’t believe you guys got sushi without me,” she complains. As soon as she closes the door, she turns off the blasting A/C and rolls down the windows to let out the new car smell that still lingers from its being recently purchased.

“That’s what you got from my text?” Jason puts his step-mother’s car in drive and pulls away from his friend’s mansion, not dissimilar to his own just down the street. While his father is the dignified CEO of a multimillion dollar company, Piper’s dad is the esteemed actor Tristan McLean. His face is plastered across the walls of many teenage girls, as well as many middle-aged women, thanks to his roles as mystical, oiled up heroes from Greek and Roman history. Jason knows she hates the fact that his work takes him away from her for such long periods of time, but there’s no mistaking the pride in her voice whenever she talks about him (something notably absent from Jason’s when he speaks of his own father).

She groans and slides down the passenger seat to kick her feet up on the dash—Jason’s parents hate when Piper does this, but he doesn’t mind it. “You _know_ how serious I am about sushi! Especially when it’s joined with meaningful group conversation. Speaking of which,” she says, pointing an accusing finger at him and huffing her choppy brown bangs out of her face. “You still haven’t told me about Mr. Dark and Mysterious from your little art class.”

“Can we skip past that if I buy you sushi?” Jason asks with no hint of hope to his voice, already turning down the street of their favorite sushi place, Nakamura Sushi.

“If you buy me sushi, then we’re _definitely_ talking about this.” Piper pokes his arm and laughs as they pull into a parking spot. They’ve been here so often that, when the bell chimes to signal their entrance, the owner, Mr. Nakamura, waves to them with a small smile (it also helps that they went to school with his son, Ethan).

After ordering their usual platter of _umekyu_ , they head to the back to settle into their usual spot by the window that looks out to the small botanical garden next door. The greenery outside compliments the calm inside of the shop with its chattering patrons towards the front, soft overhead lighting, and plucked music playing indistinctly from the surrounding speakers. It also helps that the sushi is the best in town.

Even though the pair came here to study and do homework, having spread out their textbooks and such across the hardwood table, they didn’t get to work right away. Well, Jason tries to at first, and Piper all but closes his textbooks for him.

“So, tell me about him.”

“Ohhh my god, I don’t even know him!” he protests, opting to eat one of the sushi rolls to stall answering her. “I haven’t said a single word to the guy, and it feels weird to talk about him like this.”

“Which means you clearly want to,” she points out, actually pointing at him with her chopsticks. “So we should. It’s not weird—you’ve just never been in a relationship outside of me.”

Jason furrows his light eyebrows. “Hey, I take offense to that. But I mean, yeah, I want to get to know him—he’s super cute.”

“Aaaaand?” she prods him to keep going.

“And…” he chews on his bottom lip, thinking back to seeing him for the first time. “And he _was_ dark and mysterious, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. It was more like…like he just prefers to keep to himself rather than actively avoiding people. Although, I guess he was wearing all black, but maybe he’s just emo. Oh, I wonder what kind of music he listens to. Maybe he and Thalia listen to some of the same stuff—wait, should I ask her to send me bands to listen to?”

When Jason finally looks up, Piper is smiling at him, her amber eyes glinting. “Jason Grace, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“See the day what?” he asks, a blush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks, because he already knew the answer. It’d been years since Jason had even given thought to another person romantically, let alone getting to know them and, god forbid, being in an actual relationship. He and Piper had broken up their junior year after they both realized they had only been together because of his step-mom, who had set them up freshman year, and convenience. The fact that Piper had developed a huge crush on a girl a year ahead of them, Reyna, also added to the case, and they’ve been together since she asked the older girl to prom that year.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She waved her _umekyu_ at him before popping it in her mouth, asking her next question over the bite, “So, whut are you gonna do abou’ it?”

Jason sat back in his seat, deflating with a single sigh, “I dunno, I already made a terrible first impression.” It went against everything his father had taught him—well, so did being bisexual, so he guessed that ship sailed. Still, it’s unlike him to trip and stumble like that, practically falling over himself. For a moment he wonders how someone could render him so useless, then he remembers those inquiring brown irises and deeply quirked eyebrow and firmly set mouth, and he almost chokes on his water. That explains it, he supposes.

“First impressions mean nothing,” Piper waves off, receiving a doubtful look from her best friend. “I’m serious! You just have to make a better second impression, and he’ll forget the fool you made of yourself.”

“Piperrr, that isn’t helping,” Jason objects and rubs a hand down his face. “I don’t think there’s anything that could make him not think of me as that weirdo who stared at him for way too long.”

They sit in silence for a moment: Jason resting his elbows on the table with his face in his hands in dramatic melancholy, and Piper finishing off their plate of sushi rolls, suddenly snapping her fingers.

“Thass it!” she exclaims, once again with her mouth full of food, surprising Jason across from her who looks up from his sulking. She swallows and continues, “Bring him food.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What, like sushi?”

She throws her crumpled napkin at his forehead. “No, dude. Something romantic. Quick, what’s the most romantic food you can think of?”

This kind of rapid-fire call-and-response happens often between them, so Jason says the first thing that comes to his head, “Grilled cheese,” and promptly smacks his forehead. “No, uh—strawberries?”

“Oh, that’s better than what I was thinking! I had no idea how you’d get spaghetti to class, but strawberries are portable and cute.” Piper nods approvingly. “Wow, Jace, I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

A grin of pride plasters itself to Jason’s cheeks, but is just as quickly wiped off as he continues to overthink the whole situation. “Wait, what do I even say? ‘Sorry I probably embarrassed you on our first day of class, but here are some strawberries because I actually think you’re super cute.’? How d’you think that’ll go over?”

“Ugh, you make things seem so complicated when they’re really not, you know that? Just… Sit down, look at him, and apologize first. No staring.” She points at him with a single trimmed fingernail to emphasize this. “Then you offer the strawberries as an apology? Or something like that? I don’t know, just feel how things go. Try not to fuck it up and you’re golden.”

“Hm, great advice! I’ll just apply that to every aspect of my life,” he replies sarcastically.

“Great! I’m glad you like it that much.” The sweet smile Piper presents him with vanishes behind her textbook as she lifts it to block one of Jason’s flying chopsticks. She sets the book back down and gives him a dirty look. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Sorry, Pipes,” he shrugs. “Hand slipped.”

“You’re lucky we’re in public and I have homework to do,” she grumbles, finally opening her once-makeshift-shield.

With that they get to work, but a plan to approach The Boy is formulating in Jason’s mind as he looks over spreadsheets and the text explaining them. First and foremost, he can get the strawberries in the morning at the market down the street from the school and keep them in his old lunchbox from grade school, go to all his classes and make sure they don’t get squished between his books, get to Portrait Painting and Drawing, and then… Well, then he just has to not fuck it up.

. . .

While it had been difficult to concentrate on his morning classes, Jason was glad for the slight distraction they had given him up to that point. His walk to the art building is still rushed, so he’d either have to pack up early in his previous class or find a new path. The hot afternoon sun stalks the back of his mind, suffocating him with heat as he enters the dreaded classroom 324A. It takes everything in him not to look at that occupied seat until he sits down, because if he looks now, there’s no telling if he’d be able to look away.

Maybe he’s being dramatic at this point, but each step feels as if it takes minutes, hours even; did the walk here take this long? No, he’s sure it hadn’t. Why does their table have to be in the back of room? Is everyone staring at him? Jason’s not sure, but then he’s there, and he’s sitting down, and everything has rushed back to him until he looks over, and…

“Oh my god, are you just going to stare again?”

“What?” Jason asks, slightly dumbfounded at actually hearing him speak (with an accent, at that—was he Italian?).

He sighs and puts his hand on the back of his seat so he can turn and face Jason fully, a single eyebrow quirked up once more. “I said, ‘Are you just going to stare again?’ But it seems like you just answered my question.”

The sun behind Jason’s eyes burns brighter than ever, heating up under the direct attention. It must be hotter in here than everyone else is letting on, right? He takes a deep breath, _Chill out_. “I, uh, no.” _Not that chill!_ “I mean, I wanted to apologize for that actually, because I’m not usually like that. I guess I was a little taken aback by…” He looks at Jason with more furrowed brows, making him rethink saying _your beauty_ , as if he wasn’t creepy enough. “By uh… How you’re wearing all black!”

His confusion only deepened, bordering defensiveness. “Yeah? And?”

“Oh! Um, just because it’s hot outside, so I was wondering what kind of music you liked? Wait, no, not that. Well, I _was_ wondering, but do you like strawberries?” Jason rambled, finally producing the small cooler from his backpack, opening it to reveal the red fruit. At the boy’s increasingly bewildered expression, he also managed to stick his hand out, “Sorry, I—I’m Jason, by the way. Uh, Jason Grace.”

Dark brown eyes slowly drag their way from Jason’s flushed face, to the ripe and dewy strawberries within their baby blue container, and eventually to settle on the outstretched hand that was practically begging him to shake it. He finally did so, continuing his pattern of slow actions, as if Jason would go into another ramble if he moved too fast, who tried not to hold onto the other boy’s soft palms for too long. Oh, man, he should have wiped his hands off on his jeans before this, because his hands are sweatier than he thought. Then he’s looking in his eyes and it’s over and—

“Nico di Angelo,” he says at last, his accent much more apparent with the name that graces his mother tongue. “Hm… I like Green Day, but I do not think you know any of the other bands I listen to.” Nico admits with a shrug and a wave of his hand, taking one of the strawberries and eating it. “And who doesn’t like strawberries?”

Jason perks up at the familiar name, “My sister likes that band! I’ve only really heard a few of their songs, but they seem cool!” This roughly translates to: ‘I freaked out and raided my sister’s music in hopes that you guys had similar taste, and it seems that I was correct.’ “But you’re right, I don’t listen to that kinda music a lot,” he says with a sheepish smile. “And yeah, they’re my favorite fruit. Go strawberries!” He mentally slaps himself for the last part, but his newly acquired acquaintance simply goes for another one.

Nico is about to reply, but then Patrick walks in, effectively cutting him off; he gives Jason a polite nod, then swivels in his seat to face the front again. Jason hadn’t even realized how close they’d been until the extra attention is gone, leaving him with the memory of looking in _Nico’s_ eyes, shaking _Nico’s_ hand, learning more about _Nico_ , and oh, is class over already? His classmates are packing up their supplies, but Jason can’t remember anything past Patrick saying, “Good afternoon, class!” Panic begins to build behind his eyes until he hears Nico clear his throat as he stands.

“Thanks for not staring this time, Jason Grace,” he says, saluting him with a small smile.

Then Nico is gone, but a huge smile has already been plastered to Jason’s face as he follows the rest of the crowd of students out. It’s not long before Piper and Leo are calling him, asking how it went and if he fucked up. He’s laughing as he walks in the direction of Leo’s dorm, still feeling the sun’s rays in his mind, but they’re calmer now, shaded by the soft clouds of hope that now swept across his mind.

Nico di Angelo…

God, he can’t wait for Wednesday.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !!!:)


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